


as i've done from the start

by SafelyCapricious



Series: i put a spell on you [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, Guns, Magical Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5490782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grant knows Jemma is in pain and danger. And he'll do everything in his power to solve both problems.</p><p>The Modern-Magic AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	as i've done from the start

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the prompt "working together against a common enemy brings them closer", but it's also good to know that there's a small ficlet from Jemma's point of view that slots into the beginning of this. You might want to read that before, you can find it [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/post/118582133159/drunk-prompt-biospecialist-wellfuck). (Some things were minorly altered from "drunk fic" to this, but I feel like you'll be able to grasp those with ease.)
> 
> Reading the previous parts of this series is recommended. I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Also, this hasn't been edited as much as it probably should've been, feel free to let me know if you spot something wonky! (I figured I had made you wait long enough!)

Grant is in a foul mood. Even knowing that Jemma is safe only does the bare minimum to keep his temper in check. (Approximately every fifteen minutes he closes his eyes and stretches out his senses – he’s more glad than ever for her acceptance of the tattoo since he can locate her and feel her health drumming against his eyelids whenever he checks.)

Christian has to be taken care of.

The question is how.

It would be only too easy to burn him out – to destroy every part of him and leave him a pile of ash. But that would also limit his own power – he’s been taking power from Christian and his parents since he was eighteen – since he challenged Christian and won so that he could do it to them before they had him broken and chained up as a battery.

No, he’s going to need more finesse than what he’s used to – something that will keep Christian from being able to harm Jemma but let him continue to use the other man’s magic to protect her.

It takes him two days to come to a decision. It’s not an answer – he still doesn’t have that. And it’s asking for help – which grates against his every nerve.

But for Jemma he’ll do it.

He lets out a breath and follows his link to her, it’s still fading and within a month he won’t be able to tell that she’s okay – just where she is. The energy he’s sure she didn’t even notice him transferring to her kitten when he’d held her might make it last the whole month, but if he can’t reinforce it even that’s doubtful. But for now he can feel her.

She’s in pain.

He’s got his jacket on and he’s out the door before he’s made any sort of conscious decision to do it – but once he realizes he doesn’t stop.

The red fades from the edges of his vision, his magic calming down and settling, when the tug of her heartbeat has him driving the familiar path to her coffee shop. But still he wastes no time in entering the shop – yes, it should be a safe place but that doesn’t mean it is.

He pauses at the door until he sees her, brow furrowed and staring down into her mug. He doesn’t care that he’s blocking the only entrance as he takes the time to taste her magic, to see what’s wrong.

The sharp spice of her is still there, but there’s an under layer of rancid bitterness that he doesn’t like the taste of. He rubs the tip of his tongue over the roof of his mouth until he’s sure of what’s wrong with her, and then he turns to the counter.

He makes the barista get fresh water and heat it three times – she keeps letting it actually reach a boil instead of _almost_. The only reason he doesn’t make an example of her is because he can still feel Jemma’s pain behind him and he doesn’t have time for her incompetence.

The shaking girl finally pushes the mug towards him, being extra careful not to spill a drop and he closes his hand over nothing before opening it over the mug, letting the tea bag drop in. The girl flinches, expecting a splash that never happens, and he hums to himself under his breath before saying, “Honey, dark.”

The girl doesn’t move immediately and so he takes his attention off the tea and looks at her – and suddenly she’s in motion, rounding the counter and going to the customer area where the sweeteners are. She puts the honey by his elbow before retreating again, quickly, and he hums under his breath, pleased, and adds two careful dollops to the cup before picking it up and walking towards Jemma.

There’s another person at her table sitting catty-corner to her, the man freezes when Grant approaches and then leaves quickly as Grant pulls out the chair that would’ve been across from him.

He moves the chair close enough to her that he can feel the warmth of her through his jeans. She doesn’t move away, although she does stiffen slightly as she avoids looking at him. Tempting as it is to wait until she acknowledges him, she’s in clear pain and so he pushes the tea towards her. “It’s valerian root, it’ll help,” he says, biting back the urge to voice the ‘sweetheart’ that’s on the tip of his tongue.

Too soon, it’s still too soon, and he doesn’t want her running.

The part of him that wants to be able to use endearments with her, sincerely, is appeased when she meets his eyes without hesitation – she always has, even when people with ten times her power have hesitated – and questions him.

He doesn’t like her in pain – it makes him feel like a failure. It doesn’t matter that there’s no way to actively protect against headaches – or that even if there was it would probably be a matter of finesse and not power, which would leave it solidly in her camp instead of his.

Not touching her is always hard – it’s easier today when she’s in pain and he thinks any touch could make it worse. He doesn’t want her flinching away, even if it’s because of pain and not because of _him_. His magic still reaches for her – he cannot help it, every part of him wants every part of her. There’s a soft echo response, muted and soft, from where her kitten is perched – whether in response to his magic or mentioning the tattoo he’s unsure, and then she’s pulling up her sleeve.

He doesn’t have to focus or do anything while his dragon shows her kitten how to ease the pain, instead he fixes his eyes on her face, watching the faint furrow of pain between her eyes.

It disappears, her face going slack, and she tilts in her chair. He catches her and pulls her against his side, watching her face to make sure there’s nothing else happening – that it’s just the lessening of pain causing her collapse. She’s warm and fits perfectly in his arms and he never wants to let her go. His pulse hammers. His vision goes a little red around the edges but for once it’s not rage that’s brought him there.

She doesn’t flinch when she meets his eyes – though he thinks she would if she knew what a struggle it is for him to let her pull back. But he controls himself and soon no part of her is touching him.

A quick glance around the room makes everyone who’d been staring reconsider their decisions.

She doesn’t speak for a long while, staring down at the table with thoughtful eyes and sipping her tea. She can’t possibly be unaware that he’s staring at her, but she doesn’t so much as twitch. He might have scared her with the intensity of his “Anything for _you_ ,” in response to her thanks, but he thinks it’s probably something else.

He’s just opening his mouth to say something that will probably make her scowl or glare, but is likely to at least get a reaction, when he tastes gunpowder and fire.

He has her down under the table, covered with his own body, before the window shatters in a glitter of glass and thunder.

This isn’t the first time he’s been shot at – which means he knows that his own energy will burn it up, but he also knows what bystanders look like, bleeding out, and he won’t allow that to happen to his Jemma.

There are several more shots before silence falls – broken by the sound of something dripping and a whimper. Jemma is clutching at his shirt and shaking, and he takes a moment to cup the side of her face – her pupils are blown and she’s terrified, but unhurt. He allows himself a few more seconds of being the closest to her he’s ever been before gathering himself together and shifting up, carefully, leaving a strong shield around her.

The gunman blinks and aims again, Grant isn’t sure if the man thought he’d been taken down by a shot or if it’s the visible magic dripping off his fingers that’s got him nervous, but he’s barely managed to raise the gun again before Grant has grabbed and twisted and he’s down and screaming.

The man’s mind is open in pain, but as soon as the surface thought – that maybe he had killed his target swims by – Grant rips it out entirely – the screaming dies down into a gurgle and he doesn’t care.

Someone wanted to kill _Jemma_.

He flexes his hands and closes his eyes.

The noise in the café is still subdued – someone is finishing their panicked call to the Emergency Magical Medical Technicians, several other someone’s are trying to talk to those who have been shot and _someone_ is pushing at the barrier he made.

He spins around and snarls – Jemma doesn’t back down, though her face is bloodless and her eyes are wide, she still pushes against the barrier. “Let me out, I have a potion in my purse – blood renewal – I recently finished it and – let me out so I can help them!”

She’s got wet down one side where spilled tea had soaked into her clothes, and her kitten is hissing at him from where her sleeve is still rolled up.

He wants nothing more than to pick her up and to take her away from all this – to take her somewhere _safe_.

Instead he reaches for her hand and lowers the barrier. She lets him pull her to her feet, keeping eye contact the whole time. It’s a struggle to let go, her hand is shaking slightly and she’s so clearly scared but she squeezes his hand and he forces himself to. And then she’s heading to one of the injured and – someone steps on a pebble and it makes a crack and he has a barrier up around the entire room before it’s a conscious decision.

The gunman had thought he was working alone, but that doesn’t mean Christian hadn’t had insurance, and no one is going to touch a hair on Jemma’s head ever.

When the EMMTs show up, Jemma goes to him, hand warm on his arm, and says, “You have to lower the barrier.”

He’s not leaving her vulnerable, but to make it loosen and shrink until it’s just around the two of them, that he’s happy to do. She huffs at him, but doesn’t move her hand from his arm.

 He counts it as a win, especially when she leans against him, slightly, to rub at her temple while the area is cleared and statements are taken.

No one approaches them, of course. He can see one of the EMMTs wants to, and there are two magical enforcement officers having a hushed discussion and shooting looks their way, but no one approaches.

He raises his hand to hover over the side of her face and his dragon leans down, soothing the ache in her head. She shoots him a small smile that makes him have to fight off a grin of his own – it wouldn’t do to scare everyone else more than they already are, after all – and then she finally notices the officers.

He’s sure she wants him to lower the barrier, but instead she just starts forward and he stalks her steps, the barrier moving with them, until they’re before the two shaking officers who, stammering, ask for their statement.

 Grant just looks bored and lets Jemma explain what she thinks happened – he’s rather impressed with the number of details she managed to keep track of, to be honest, he thought the chaos would’ve overwhelmed her more.

 Of course, she missed that she was the target, but that’s to be expected.

 He waits until the officers hesitate and turn to him before gently touching her back. “Let me take you home.”

“Oh but…” she trails off as she glances at the police who are very assiduously not looking at him, before letting him lead her away. She keeps glancing back at them before, finally, frowning up at him. “You don’t have to scare them so much, you know. They are only trying to do their jobs.”

He guides her into his car and smiles at her, adjusting the temperature to her preferred settings without asking. “I know. But I plan to hire your friends for this job, so they needn’t trouble themselves.”

She splutters in the passenger seat as he swiftly accelerates into traffic and to take her to her very well protected home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/)! Come say hi and give me a prompt.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! I'd appreciate it if you would let me know in a comment!


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